The Things That Are Repeated Sequel to TGWLS
by Lunar High Lunatic
Summary: Professor Severus Snape once loved a girl. It was long ago, a quick fleeting romance that ended tragically one summer day. Now more than twenty years later her reincarnation appears at Hogwarts, much younger and ready to cause trouble for old Snape.
1. Greetings

Disclaimer: I'm just messin' around with J.K. Rowling's fun cast of characters. She is no more responsible for the abuse they suffer at my hands than I am for the abuse they've suffered at hers. Davyn Brodie and Darcy Sweeney are my sole property and their misfortunes are entirely upon my head.

Hello there.

You don't know me but I'm sure you know many of the characters and events of my time. You probably know all about The Boy Who Lived and his nemesis He Who Must Not Be Named. You must then also be familiar with the Weasleys, Hermione Granger and, of course, Dumbledore. You may even know of the Malfoys, formerly associated with that nasty group known as the Death Eaters.

Of all that you must surely know. What you do not know of is my story. No. You could not possibly know that. Nor could you know of my love for a man who fooled them all; a man hated by many, liked by few and loved by one.

But that is the story I wish to tell.

My name is Darcy Sweeney and I loved Professor Severus Snape.


	2. Two Impossiblities

Disclaimer: I do not have any rights to Harry Potter & Co. I am only responsible for Davyn Brodie and Darcy Sweeney and the occasional mischief they cause for J.K. Rowling's beautifully created characters.

The feast had not even begun and already he was wishing it were over. Not that he was not hungry, for in truth he was famished. It was just that he was suddenly feeling very unwell. Well…not unwell exactly. He was feeling…was feeling…

Bloody hell if he knew what he was feeling!

Whatever it was it was unpleasant and he did not like it. From the moment the first years began filing into the Great Hall a band had been tightening around his chest.

Fragments of memory flashed through his mind and he wanted to know why. Why those memories and what did they have to do with this feeling?

Oh. There it was. Nostalgia. An emotion completely unknown to Professor Severus Snape, Potions Master. No, not once in his entire life had he ever felt that.

So, what was it about now that had him feeling if?

He thought perhaps it had to do with one of the two impossibilities in front of him.

Impossibility number one he had been prepared for. He had been preparing for it for months. Years!

Harry Potter was the spitting image of James, right from the top of his messy head to the toes of his worn out sneakers. The only flaw was the stolen eyes. What were Lily Evans' eyes doing in James Potter's face? The wonder of genetics and one possible source of his nostalgia.

Impossibility number two was the one his mind was still grappling with. The face was the same and so were the hazel eyes but what was with the cascade of midnight curls?

Not since his fifth year at Hogwarts had he seen Davyn Brodie's lovely face. She had appeared like a whirlwind, turning his life upside down before she disappeared, leaving in her wake a trail of bittersweet memories. He hadn't dared hope to see her face, yet there were her hazel eyes, staring up at him from beneath dark brows.

She was younger than the girl he remembered, her cheeks still round with baby-flesh. But when she smiled it was the same, the corner of that sweet little mouth curved up. A dimple appeared in her cheek. The same darling indent he had kissed in empty classrooms, dark alcoves and even once under the full moon on top of this very school.

But that had been a lifetime ago. So why was she here now when he had hidden her away in the labyrinth that is the human mind centuries ago? He had shut her in that cell and thrown away the key.

_Let her rot there_, he'd thought. She deserved it for breaking his heart, for leaving him behind. If it hadn't been for Lily he would have been lost long ago. She was the reason he could sit there now, so composed as he watched this specter.

But he was not composed. Not really. His mind was in turmoil when the sorting began.

He did not even glance at the other students as they sat under the Sorting Hat. He could not take his eyes off the copy of his childhood love.

The cluster of students was dwindling by the second; Potter had already been placed.

"Sweeney, Darcy."

A flash of fear in those gorgeous eyes. You would have nevre known when she faced all those strangers. Professor Snape watched as the hat was set on those dark curls. From this angle she looked just like the stranger she was. Probably wouldn't even be in Gryf-

"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the ancient and all-knowing hat.

He suddenly wished he had a position at any other school.

The feast progressed in its usual manner.

The students were dismissed. He watched as the impossibilities were ushered out of the Great Hall and suddenly he could breath again.

Professor Snape didn't know why he was so worried about the figures from his past stalking the corridors of Hogwarts. He was actually quite glad he wouldn't be stuck with them for any long period of time until Friday. It gave him plenty of time to adjust to seeing them.

On Friday morning Snape admitted them along with the other first years into his dungeon classroom. It took all of the discipline he had not to stumble over the unfamiliar name of Darcy Sweeney, the present owner of the face he loved.

Potter, on the other hand, Snape could not resist taunting at least a little. The celebrity crack had been quite satisfying. He proceeded with his slick speech, unconsciously trying to impress the dark-haired version of his former soulmate.

"…I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death - if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

As he concluded his monologue he glanced at Darcy, eager to see her reaction. It wasn't what he had expected. Actually, she looked a little angry. Perhaps at the dunderhead remark?

For a moment he saw her surrounded by gray smoke, coughing and remembered that Davyn had been abysmal when it came to potions-making.

_Great start, Severus. You've already insulted her_, he thought, for a moment forgetting that she wasn't Davyn. He tried to think of something, anything to say or do to distract him from the girl.

And there was Harry, sitting there so completely oblivious to all that Snape had suffered at his father's hand.

_Should make him pay for that._

"Potter! What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

He didn't expect Harry – or anyone for that matter – to know the answer, so the Granger girl's hand rapidly raised hand kind of made him feel like an ass. Just the same he ignored her.

"I don't know, sir."

_Didn't think so. Thanks so very much. Next question._

"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

He thought Miss Granger might piss herself, she looked _so_ eager to answer.

"I don't know, sir."

The Slytherin students were quite enjoying it. How about Darcy?

Snape was surprised to discover that he found her more attractive in her present state: flames burning behind those familiar eyes, her cheeks flushed with rage. Wonderful. He understood why Black enjoyed pissing off Davyn so much.

He continued.

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and woflsbane?"

What the hell was the Granger girl even doing in his class if she knew everything? He wished she would sit her arse back down. Couldn't she he was harassing Potter?

"I don't know. I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?"

Apparently he had his father's cheek as well. It wasn't funny. Why the laughter?

He glanced at Darcy. She hadn't laughed but she did look pleased with Potter's remark.

Well then…

Snape had conducted the rest of the class in his usual manner, from that point carefully watching Darcy for any signs of the girl he had known.

A couple of times she rushed a step or skipped one entirely but with her partner's carefully vigilance the potion had yet to behave violently. Fortunate, that. He wouldn't know how to behave if it had.

When Longbottom's potion turn vicious Snape took the opportunity to turn his attention from Sweeney.

Though he mainted his composure during class by the end of the session his nerves were shot. It was harder than he had thought, having them both in the same room.

How could Dumbledore possibly expect him to survive the next seven years?


End file.
